Just This Once
by Caroline
Summary: Nathan/Mag - Eyeing the bottle still dangling between his long, graceful fingers, she asked him redundantly, "Have you been drinking?"


TITLE: Just This Once  
FANDOM: Repo! The Genetic Opera  
PAIRING: Nathan/Mag  
SPOILERS: None; pre-canon  
RATING: Hard PG-13/Mild R  
SUMMARY: _Eyeing the bottle still dangling between his long, graceful fingers, she asked him redundantly, "Have you been drinking?"_

* * *

Eleven o'clock at night, though not exactly a late hour, seemed an odd time to Mag for someone to be knocking at her door. Furrowing her finely contoured brow and belting shut her silk dressing gown, she went to the large mahogany door and peered through the frosted glass window, beyond the wrought-iron to the blurred face on the other side.

Frowning, she sounded out who she already knew it was, "Nathan?" and pulled open the door.

Sure enough, Nathan Wallace, the object of her unrequited affection and man who had given her the gift of eyesight, stood on the other side, one hand braced on the door frame while the other dangled a bottle of scotch, head lowered. His voice was dusky, barely there. "Mag, you're awake. Good."

Immediately, she stood aside to allow him entrance. "Come in," she told him smoothly, but he was already brushing past her, his body heat mingling with hers causing her heart to miss a beat or two. Eyeing the bottle still dangling between his long, graceful fingers, she asked him redundantly, "Have you been drinking?"

Rather than answer, he just sighed, hanging his head again. "It's over."

Frowning in confusion, Mag softly shut the door behind her and turned the lock, going to his side and placing a supportive hand in the middle of his back. "What is?"

"My life," he declared dramatically, spinning with arms extended.

Mag stepped gracefully to the side as if performing a ballet, dodging his arms. "Perhaps you should take a seat."

"Take a seat, yes, good idea," he sighed, words slurred together as one. He headed for her sofa without another word and plopped himself down, sinking down against the back cushions and sprawling his long legs out in front of him, taking another swig from the bottle.

Mag snatched it away with a good-natured smile. "Easy, Nate."

"Why did this have to happen to me?" he bemoaned, expression frought with anguish.

"Talk to me," she begged, grabbing for one of his hands.

Immediately, he gave it a squeeze. She loved this about their relationship, his ease and comfort around her... though it drove her insane at the same time. He pressed a loud kiss to her knuckles, glancing down at them and rubbing them as if wiping away the mark of his lips as he told her, "They're engaged."

"Rotti and Marni." It wasn't a question -- there was no question; no one other than her own best friend could have upset him like this.

"Who else?" He kicked a leg petulantly, like a small child, and Mag would have laughed had she not felt so awful for him.

"I'm so sorry."

"I knew this would happen." He snuck the bottle from her hands slowly, bringing it to his lips for another swig.

She watched this action, blue eyes flashing iridescent as it was recorded -- the way his lips clung to the bottle, parting slightly to release it, tongue sweeping out to gather any excess liquor that had strayed to the curve of his upper lip. He fascinated her; everything about him.

Mag knew the comment was cliched, but it didn't stop it from slipping out: "If Marni can't see what's right in front of her, Nate, then she doesn't deserve you."

He turned to her, his glazed-over green eyes holding her gaze for an extended moment as he drew in a slow breath through his nose, exhaling the same way. Finally, he narrowed his eyes at her contemplatively. "How are you so wise, Mag?"

She giggled and took the bottle from him again, electric shocks traveling up her arm when their fingers brushed. "I haven't downed an entire bottle of scotch like you have, my love."

Nathan chuckled at this, eyes still holding hers. He blinked slowly, the alcohol slowing his actions. After another long moment of silence in which Mag watched Nathan and he watched her, he implored her, "Have a drink with me."

Her heart strayed up into her throat for a moment at the sound of his voice, low and smooth like velvet; her first instinct was to say yes, but reason got the better of her. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"Come on," he pressed, leaning a little closer until their shoulders touched. "Just this once?"

Mag searched his eyes, drawing in her breath slowly as she let her head and heart argue. Finally, she nodded her consent, but sternly told him, "_One_ drink. Just this once."

He grinned. "That's my girl," and went to the cabinet behind her bar for a pair of tumblers.

Mag just watched him as he moved about her home with ease, an ease that had always been there even when they were first getting to know one another. He was perfectly comfortable around her and behaved like a jittery schoolboy around her best friend. That had always confused her.

When he returned, he filled each of the glasses halfway before handing one off to her, sitting beside her once more. She tucked her legs up beside her on the couch, leaning one elbow into the back cushion.

As he raised his glass, she raised her eyebrow, feeling the need to repeat, "Just this once."

Nathan agreed with a half smile and a tilt of his head, clinking their glasses together. They each took a sip then, smiling at each other over the rims.

* * *

Two hours later, they had each had four more glasses of scotch, angled toward each other on the couch as they told one another stories from their high school years. As Nathan finished regaling her with a story of an impromptu chemistry experiment gone horribly awry, Mag giggled, head dipping down slightly. Nathan laughed right along with her, leaning forward to catch the hair that had fallen into her face, tucking it back behind her ear.

She smiled up at him. "Somehow I can just see you as the troublemaker in chemistry class. A mad scientist in the making."

"Thank you, Mag." After a moment, he furrowed his brow, "I think," and then shrugged and took another sip of his scotch.

"Alright, your turn," he sighed after setting his glass down on her mahogany coffee table. "How about a story of all the boys that chased you all through high school?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry to say, but there are none of those stories."

"None at all?"

Mag tilted her head at him, expression disbelieving. "Well, being blind doesn't exactly garner a lot of attention from the boys at school."

Nathan shook his head, scoffing. "Then _they_ were the blind ones, Maggie."

Her heart skipped momentarily at the nickname, the one he bestowed upon her in rare moments, which she secretly cherished. She smiled softly at him, one cheek dimpling slightly. "Really?"

"Absolutely. Anyone that takes one look at you and _doesn't_ immediately fall head over heels in love, is a blind fool."

Mag smiled into her scotch, fingernails softly drumming on the side of the glass. She took another sip of the amber liquid and let the warmth slide down her throat, let it loosen the vice-grip her inhibitions had on her tongue, before she responded. "You do realize you're among those 'blind fools,' don't you?"

"What? How so?" He seemed genuinely confused as he reached for his glass.

She sighed. "All this time I've known you, Nate, I've been absolutely smitten with you, and you've seen nothing but my best friend."

Nathan took another drink, intensity in his green eyes as they held gaze over the rims of their scotch glasses. When he set his back down on its coaster, her following suit, he still hadn't broken gaze. "I'm seeing now."

Mag watched, breath caught in her throat, as he started to lean toward her. His lips neared hers and her eyelids lowered slightly, watching his lips advance. When they were millimeters from touching is when logic caught up with her and she leaned forward to grab their scotch glasses off the coffee table, bringing them to the kitchen. "You're seeing through scotch goggles," she convinced him, "That's not quite the same thing."

"It is."

She smiled, running the water as she rinsed out the glasses. "It's not." After they'd been cleaned, she set the glasses in the drying rack beside the sink and dried her hands on a nearby towel, gripping the counter when she was through as she fought to regain her sense of equilibrium. The scotch and Nathan's words were conspiring against her now; she had to hold onto whatever ounce of willpower she had left. Shakily, she told him, "I think perhaps it's time we call it a night, Nathan. Time for bed."

Turning around then, she gasped as he was suddenly right in front of her, hands against the counter on either side of her waist, pinning her in place. The look in his eyes was both dangerous and seductive as he nodded his agreement, "I think you're right," before he swooped down to capture her lips.

She gasped against his lips, allowing herself to sink into the passion of the kiss, matching his intensity with some of her own. Her head spun and she felt like she was falling, knew she would crash if she let this continue. So she broke away, his name leaving her lips on a breath. "Nate."

"Mag..." The lust in his tone nearly undid her right then and there, knees weakened to the point where he had to bind an arm around her waist to hold her up, her arms falling on his, gripping for support.

She closed her eyes and tipped her head forward, trying to get her bearings, and his forehead leaned to meet her. She swallowed hard as his hands slid to the small of her back, holding her tenderly. "We can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you're... not seeing clearly." She pulled back to look into his eyes, searching for the glaze. It was still there, only... it looked different than before.

He searched her eyes right back, watching as they flashed iridescent as he softly murmured, "Feels like I'm seeing clearly for the first time, actually."

Mag closed her eyes once more, storing away that recorded moment -- the softness of his voice, the affection and desire in his eyes -- for later retrieval and playback. "It's not _me_ you're seeing, Nathan," she told him sadly.

He said nothing in response, merely leaned down to kiss her again, and Mag didn't fight him. Rather, she tipped her chin up to meet him, returning his desperate kiss with equal desperation and fervor, despite her insides waging war with one another.

She knew in her heart she was right -- he wasn't truly seeing her. Or if he was, he was wishing her to be Marni instead. Being with him would only cause both of them heartache. It would be taking advantage, on both sides. Her of him, just by wanting to be with him though knowing his heart belonged to her best friend. And him of her, by being with her while loving someone else.

It would be a no-win situation and would only end badly. Perhaps they'd even end up resenting one another, leading to tense meetings years down the road. That was the last thing she wanted. She wanted Nathan Wallace in her life forever, no matter what role he fulfilled. To toy with that, to tempt fate, would be a guarantee of years of loneliness ahead.

But then there was the way he kissed her; held her. The way he stared into her eyes as if he was truly seeing her. As if he truly wanted her. It would be nice to indulge in that fantasy, if only for a night. Just one night.

As if reading her thoughts, his lips ventured along her jawline, open-mouthed kisses traveling to her ear where his whisper tickled her, sending shivers up and down her spine. "Just this once?"

Mag's eyes snapped shut and her head moved without her consent -- nodding -- as he pulled away. She kissed him one more time and murmured against his lips, "Come upstairs, Nathan."

He followed her up the stairs, hand encased in hers. Mag took the moment facing away from him to draw in slow, deep breaths, preparing herself for whatever was to come of this, if anything at all. As she started to lead him into her darkened bedroom, moonlight the only source of light, she suddenly felt a tug on her hand and then she was pulled backwards. Her back collided with his chest as one of his arms encircled her waist, palm against her stomach and fingers spread. The fingers of his other hand moved her long curls aside as his lips found her neck, planting kisses. "I hope you're not very tired," he mumbled against the hollow of her shoulder, placing a kiss there.

Breathlessly, she asked, "Why's that?" and gasped when his tongue trailed up to her ear, teeth scraping the lobe.

His grip on her stomach tightened and his fingers bunched the silken material of her nightgown, voice nearly a growl as he told her, "Because this is going to take awhile."

She whimpered, knees weakening again as he supported her with an arm around her waist, lips and tongue continuing to work magic on her ear, neck, and shoulder. He spun her around, his eyes intense and full of hunger. Hers flashed in response, stomach muscles twitching as his fingers slid to the knot on her dressing gown. She just barely nodded her permission before he tugged the knot loose and jerked the garment from her shoulders, letting it fall to a puddle of silk on the floor. Then, he pulled her close once more, fingers toying with the thin straps of her nightgown as she shivered.

"Cold?" he asked, kissing her cheek and heading for her mouth.

"No," she murmured, but the sound was lost inside their kiss.

Nathan led her backward toward her four-poster king-sized bed with the practiced ease of a longtime lover, despite it being his first time seeing her bedroom's interior. When the backs of her knees bumped the mattress, he leaned her back, one hand gripping hers and raising her arm over her head, guiding it to the headboard while he leaned over her. His other hand tripped down the side of her body, grasping the material of her nightgown and slowly drawing it up until one leg was exposed. He guided it around his waist as he pressed his weight into her, his arousal touching down against her core, causing her to gasp and loll her head back.

"Nathan..."

It seemed like hours slipped by as Nathan took his time adorning her entire body with kisses and caresses, his touch light but fierce and his kisses the same. It was past three o'clock by the time Mag finally had her chance to undress him, paying the same amount of attention to his body that he did to hers. They slipped under the covers together and kissed with urgency, a burning need to be together in spite of any and all consequences their actions would bring.

And when their bodies joined, her eyes flashed, storing away the moment so she'd never forget. Their eyes held as he hovered over her, hips moving in tandem with hers, before he leaned down to kiss her. When their lips broke, his trailed across her cheek as he murmured her name in a voice thick with desire.

Mag moaned in response, holding tighter to him by the small of the back, her nails digging deep and branding him as hers, even if the scars would only last a matter of days. She'd always be able to see them beneath the surface, would always know where they were and what they represented to her -- that Nathan Wallace was, for a time, just hers.

And when it was all over and their bodies laid entwined beneath the sheets dusted with sweat, Mag finally let out the breath she'd been holding seemingly since it all began. Her head pillowed on Nathan's shoulder, arm draped across his stomach and ear listening to his heart beat while they stared out at the sunrise together.

"Incredible," he sighed, one arm wrapped securely around Mag and the other stuffed behind his head, under the pillow.

She smiled. "I know. I'll never tire of watching the sun come up."

He chuckled, and her head bobbed in time with the motion of his chest. "No, no." He tipped her chin up with his free hand. "I meant us."

"Oh." She smiled bashfully, hiding the smile against his chest and pressing a light kiss to his sternum. "Yes, that was wonderful."

She closed her eyes, willing time to suspend, willing Nathan to fall out of love with Marni and remain in her bed for days. Weeks. Months, even.

But it wasn't to be. For just moments later, he was kissing the crown of her head and gently sliding out from beneath her, telling her, "I should go. I have three surgeries scheduled back-to-back this morning."

Though her heart was already fastly sinking, Mag still retained her brilliant smile. "I understand." She sat up slowly, tucking the sheet under her arms. "Would you like me to put on some coffee before you leave? Or I have tea, if you'd prefer."

"No no, I'll be fine," he assured her, pulling his clothes on while she watched. When he was through, he went around to her side of the bed and leaned down, giving her a pure kiss on the forehead as he promised they would talk later.

Mag agreed, and watched him head out the door as she knew in her heart that they would not talk later. There would be no discussion about what happened, no repeat occurrences whenever one of them was in need. They would go back to normal as if it had never happened, each of them left with the memories of the emotions and sensations shared for that brief period of time.

So Mag laid back against the pillows. She let her eyes flash and begin to play back their night together.

"Just this once," she promised herself, as she started to watch.

* * *

FIN


End file.
